


nocturne symphonia

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, 悪魔城ドラキュラX 月下の夜想曲 | Castlevania: Symphony of the Night
Genre: Adaptation, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Retelling, Screenplay/Script Format, Suggestive Themes, Surreal, Trauma, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: A nine episode long retelling of Konami's Castlevania: Symphony of the Night inspired by the original 1997 video game and the animated television series.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. metamorphosis

**Author's Note:**

> EPISODE ONE: After 300 years, Dracula’s castle reappears in 18th century Wallachia under mysterious circumstances. A figure thought to have been long dead returns.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING for animal death, seizures, depictions of disease and epidemics
> 
> [READ ON CARRD](https://symphoniaepisodeone.carrd.co/)

**101 EXT. THE WOODS -- DAYTIME**

The forest is quiet. Trees stand tall and erect. Above, the skies are grey. Grey as the thin mist hovering in the air.

TITLE: **ROMANIA 1796**

VARIOUS CLOSE UPS of dying leaves, skinny branches, and gently streaming brooks. It’s a cold autumn day in Romania. A FOX inches towards one of these brooks and laps at the water. It doesn’t look healthy. No amount of water will bring back its soft red fur or put meat on its bones.

The animal scrounges along the forest undergrowth. Poking its nose wherever it can, searching for food. A grub. A mouse. Anything to help it last one more day before winter.

The fox PERKS its head up. Ears twitch. Leaves RUSTLE in the distance then silence. The fox carries on with its business. Too weak, too hungry to care.

We PULL BACK and see TWO HUNTERS with muskets stalking the unsuspecting fox. Burly, stout men who live off the land. Dressed in furs as thick as their beards. They stop and crouch behind a bush. A knowing look is exchanged between the two of them.

One hunter RAISES HIS MUSKET. He aims it at the fox who remains unaware. He takes a slow, easy breath.

CLOSE UP of his fingertip on the trigger. He begins to SLOWLY pull it...

A sudden CRASH echoes throughout the forest. The ground SHAKES and RUMBLES. Both hunters TRIP AND CLAMBER onto each other. The fox RUNS off, smart enough to at least do that.

Slowly, silence falls over the trees once again. The hunters stand up, confused. Shaken. Something catches their attention above. They LOOK UP...

HUNTERS’ POV: a hoard of CROWS fly over the treetops. There’s more than a dozen of them. Far too many to be a simple migration. They CACKLE and CAW.

The hunters stare. This is a warning sign--one they do not take. Both men FOLLOW THE CROWS deeper into the forest. Rats following the pied piper.

They trek up a HILLTOP, swatting aside low hanging branches and bushes. Up, up they climb. At last, the hunters conquer their small mountain. They raise their heads.

Eyes WIDEN in disbelief. One hunter lifts a shaky hand and CROSSES HIMSELF. As though uncertain of his own faith.

HUNTERS’ POV: A VISTA of the Romanian woodlands. Faded green against a grey sky. Atop ANOTHER HILL, entire trees have been DESTROYED by the very thing which takes their place.

An unnatural, darkened STRUCTURE looms in the distance. Familiar in all the wrong, awful ways. Its sharp towers pierce the misty sky. 

* * *

**102 EXT. FARMHOUSE -- DAYTIME**

Early morning. A young PEASANT GIRL steps out of a simple cottage-esque farmhouse carrying a PAIL.

She walks around the back towards a STABLE. The farm girl YAWNS. The start of another long day.

INSIDE THE STABLE are a few cows. She lazily scratches behind their ears before grabbing a WOODEN STOOL. She places it near one of the cows then DROPS THE PAIL underneath its udder.

The farm girl SITS. Her eyes are PARTIALLY CLOSED as she milks the cow. Sleep deprivation won’t let her focus, but she doesn’t need to. Her fingers move on their own. She’s done this hundreds of times before. She’ll do it a hundred more times.

The cow lets out a PAINED GRUNT. The farm girl pats its leg. Maybe she accidentally squeezed too hard. She looks down at the pail. Her eyes and mouth OPEN WIDE WITH SHOCK. The farm girl SHRIEKS AND KICKS the pail. She begins to HYPERVENTILATE.

CLOSE UP of the pail turned on its side. SPLATTERS OF BLOOD stain the hay covered ground.

* * *

**103 EXT. THE ROADS -- NIGHTTIME**

Evening. A HORSE DRAWN CARRIAGE drives down a winding country road, bumping along the way.

INSIDE THE CARRIAGE are two nobles dressed in formal late 18th century European attire. A man and a woman. They can barely keep still with all the bumps in the road.

NOBLEWOMAN

Are you certain this is the right way?

NOBLEMAN

It’s very hard to get lost in Romania these days, my love. We will be fine. Just a bit late to the occasion, that’s all.

The carriage SHAKES AND ROCKS from side to side, harder than before. The noblewoman almost falls into the nobleman’s lap.

NOBLEMAN

(banging on the roof)

Driver! Would you please be a little gentler on the reins? The lady is of delicate sensibilities.

(beat)

Driver?

Still no answer. The carriage CRAWLS TO A STOP. The man and woman turn to each other confused. Apprehensive. Did something happen...?

They both STEP OUTSIDE. It’s quiet. The man checks the front of the carriage and finds... no one. The driver is gone.

NOBLEMAN

(angrily)

Bastard. I should have paid him in full when we arrived.

He turns back to the woman. She doesn’t notice how the driver’s gone missing. She doesn’t notice anything at all. Her eyes are WIDE. Her bottom lip TREMBLES. What does she see?

NOBLEMAN

Dear? Is everything alright?

The woman begins to CONVULSE. Spasms wrack her body. She FALLS but the man CATCHES HER in time. She can only speak in INCOHERENT GARGLES.

NOBLEMAN

(concerned)

Speak to me! What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong?

The woman’s eyes ROLL BACK--not completely, but far enough. Finally, she speaks as though in a trance.

NOBLEWOMAN

(whispering, continuous)

Blood demands blood demands flesh demands blood demands flesh demands flesh demands blood—

She repeats the same thing over and over again... then STOPS. Eyes remain rolled back while BLOOD TINGED FOAM drips out of her mouth.

The man looks down in horror. He SCREAMS and DROPS THE WOMAN. She lies in the dirt like a ragdoll.

NOBLEMAN

(shouting)

IS ANYONE OUT THERE? ANYONE? WE NEED HELP! SOMEONE HELP US! PLEASE!

PAN BACK as the man continues his desperate begging. Someone will find them. Someone has to.

* * *

**104 EXT. CITY SQUARE -- DAYTIME**

Late afternoon. The sky is a combination of sunlight and clouds. City folk dressed in casual late 18th century European attire go about their day. Blissful. Unaware. A bell tower CHIMES loudly.

TITLE: **BUCHAREST 1797**

MALE V.O.

This cannot go on.

* * *

**105 INT. ASSEMBLY ROOM**

WIDE SHOT of five men sitting around a table in a dimly lit room. Some are old but most are middle age. These are the boyars of Romania, similar to lords. They are responsible for countless lives. They’re not very good at their job. Despite being secluded, they speak in hushed tones just in case their own subjects can hear them.

BOYAR #1

(the young angry one)

There are bodies on the roads. Filth and disease have ravaged entire crops. Our poorest farmers have been forced off their lands with nowhere else to go. Some will not survive another winter.

BOYAR #2

(the blunt one)

And those who cannot leave say they taste blood and excrement in their water.

BOYAR #3

(the cruel one)

They are common serfs. If their labours cannot provide for us, then let them settle somewhere else.

BOYAR #1

Where? Transylvania? Will they crawl back to our friends the Austrians?

BOYAR #4

(the old wise one)

We have already suffered enough losses. War and occupation have torn this country asunder. Anymore and we shall become destitute.

BOYAR #5

(the naïve one)

It’s been months since the first sightings--perhaps it is time we made an appeal to our Holy Roman Emperor.

BOYAR #4

(dismissive)

Francis will not raise a single jeweled finger to offer assistance.

BOYAR #3

If Leopold would not listen to Transylvanian pleas, what makes you think his son will send defenses against our greatest evil? What’s happening miles away in France is soiling his breeches enough.

BOYAR #1

Has word of these happenings reached the Belmonts?

BOYAR #3

The Belmont legacy is a relic of old times. Their purpose is ornamental, nothing more.

BOYAR #1

Ornamental or not, we cannot forget what their son did seven years ago. Gentlemen, we are out of options and out of time.

BOYAR #2

Their eldest is still missing.

(beat)

No one has seen him since autumn. Others like him were sent, but none have come back.

Heavy pause. All five men sit UNCOMFORTABLY, avoiding eye contact with one another.

We PAN BACK and see how much smaller they look surrounded by the empty room.

BOYAR #5

(defeated)

Perhaps we should pray for Belmont’s safe return. For our sakes and the sake of Romania herself.

FADE TO BLACK

* * *

**106 EXT. THE WOODS -- DAYTIME**

CLOSE UP of a wooded river. The water runs clear, gentle, and calm. A pair of BLACK BOOTS walk along the riverbank, RUSTLING a few bushes.

PAN BACK. It’s a bright spring day. We see the backside of a HOODED FIGURE as they make their way up the river. They KNEEL as if to inspect the water.

CLOSE UP of the figure’s profile. Their true identity is obscured by a large HOODED CLOAK, but there are a few noticeable elements--dark brown skin, long strands of wavy dark hair swaying in the breeze, and some feminine features. Early 20s.

Around their neck is a loose necklace of beads and four sacred Indian animals--the monkey, the tiger, the elephant, and the bull. The entire necklace is made from wood.

CLOSE UP of the river. An unknown substance begins to flow down, growing darker and redder. BLOOD.

The figure looks ahead. They STAND and continue up the river. The source of the blood isn’t very far.

There are ANIMALS floating in the water. Rabbits, deer, a variety of woodland creatures. Some have been taken by disease, others GORED by something much larger. Even predators can be seen amongst the corpses. CLOSE UP of the exact same fox from SCENE ONE. It’s been dead for some time now.

The figure seems visibly UNSETTLED but remains calm. They RAISE their head. Off in the far distance, a HOARD of crows, vultures, and other birds CIRCLE above something. Scavengers waiting for death.

The figure RUNS towards the birds. Towards a much DENSER and DARKER part of the forest.

FADE TO BLACK

* * *

**107 INT. CATACOMBS**

This is a familiar place. Crumbling towers of BROKEN wheels, mechanisms, and cogs form a dark chamber of ruin. A clock tower underground. We DESCEND further through a hole at the bottom.

Next room. The carpets have all but DISINTEGRATED. The ornate architecture can barely hold itself together. There’s RUBBLE everywhere.

CLOSE UP of a broken electric light FLICKERING on and off. No one has been here in a very long time.

At the far end of the room sits a PEDESTAL. It holds a large COFFIN, just as worn and dusty as everything else.

Silence. The coffin lid suddenly MOVES. It drops with a loud THUD. CLOSE UP of a hand RISING from within. Long sharp nails GRIP at the sides. Out tumbles...

Alucard. Nothing about him has changed. Everything about him has changed. Shirtless, wearing only the same tight black pants and a matching cloak. His hair has turned white and tangled. He doesn’t just look tired--he looks HAGGARD.

Alucard’s legs can barely hold himself. He VOMITS. The cloak is far too big for him. More like a blanket. He WRAPS IT around his trembling body. He’s confused. Disoriented. But most of all--weak.

He turns towards the exit. A few more RAGGED breaths. Nothing else to do but go up. Alucard reaches into the coffin and pulls out his SWORD. It’s better as a walking stick.

He STUMBLES with every step. This was so much easier before.

* * *

**108 EXT. GRESIT CHURCH -- NIGHTTIME**

Alucard steps OUTSIDE. Clearly exhausted from his journey out of the catacombs. His bloodshot eyes open wider. He remembers this city. Yet he’s ALONE. He walks forward.

We follow Alucard through DESOLATE STREETS. He looks so small in comparison. Broken windows, crumbling houses, rats SCURRYING down the alleyways. A BODY sits in one of the doorways covered in blankets. We CLOSE IN on their face. Splotchy skin. Dried blood around their mouth. Flies on their glassy open eyes. Dead. Alucard KEEPS WALKING.

* * *

**109 EXT. GRESIT CITY SQUARE -- NIGHTTIME**

The square is empty. Alucard takes one step--SQUISH. A DEAD RAT lies under his boot. More are scattered along the cobblestones. No reaction from Alucard. He’s seen far worse.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)

Who are you?

Alucard looks up. An OLD MAN stares at him suspiciously. His mouth is barely visible under his massive beard. Two sickly horses pull along a RICKETY CART full of corpses.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

(hostile)

I’ll ask again. Who are you?

No answer from Alucard. Still no expression either. He’s so fucking tired.

PAN BACK. The two men stand a fair distance from each other.

**CUT TO BLACK**

THE DEAD COLLECTOR (O.B.)

Who are you?

* * *

**110 EXT. GRESIT CITY SQUARE -- NIGHTTIME**

CLOSE UP of a small fire.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR (O.S.)

You’ll have to forgive me.

The two men sit around the fire. Alucard holds the cloak tight around his body. The old man seems less suspicious of him. Still, he’s wary. Something isn’t right with this wretched young man. He STOKES the fire with another stick.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

For a moment I thought you was one of those bodies comin’ back to life. This place tends to attract such unnatural happenins’.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s profile. The lighting from the fire makes his placid features look slightly more SKELETAL. A vision of apathetic death.

ALUCARD

(beat)

What happened?

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

Same thing that happened to all the other old cities. Once this goddamned plague hit months ago and the sanitariums overflowed, they came here. If you care to stay and look around, boy, you’ll find some of the buildings are still bein’ used as sick houses. But Gresit’s been abandoned then rediscovered for centuries now.

ALUCARD

(whispers in realization)

Centuries...

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

What’s that you said?

ALUCARD

(deflecting)

Why are you here?

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

To gather up the dead. Get ‘em off the streets and out of the sick houses so more’ll take their places. The first months I just dug some shallow graves for ‘em. Now there’s no more room in the dirt, so I burn ‘em.

(beat)

The poor were the first to go, you know. That’s how it happens. Always the poorest. Yet I’m still here. Sullyin’ my hands so that those boyars and King Francis don’t have to. When I die--and it’ll be soon--I'll already be in good company with the Reaper.

Alucard quietly STARES at the fire. He’s met Death before. Not this version of course.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

What about you, boy? You still haven’t told me your business.

ALUCARD

I...

(beat)

Home. I need to go home.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

Don’t we all.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s intense eyes. The fire REFLECTS in his golden irises.

WE JUMP TO a series of QUICK FLASHING IMAGES--DOZENS of dead bodies--Alucard SCREAMING, CRYING, COVERED IN BLOOD--A figure with the BELMONT CREST on their back CARRIES HIS LIMP BODY into his coffin--

CUT BACK to the present.

ALUCARD

(whispering)

I should not be here.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

Speak up, boy. Don’t mumble so much.

ALUCARD

(standing up)

I need one of your horses.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

Oh, well... they’re not much. Just as old and frail as myself—

ALUCARD

They will do.

No more talking. The old man STANDS then UNHOOKS one of his two horses off his cart. Alucard GRABS his sword, attaching it to his hip. He HOISTS himself onto the horse.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

You’ve listened to this old man ramble on for long enough. But be careful on the roads. Folks talk of strange things. Stranger than cities filled with the dead.

Alucard NODS before RIDING OFF. His horse TROTS across the square. The old man watches them leave.

THE DEAD COLLECTOR

Mm. Yes. Strange things. Strange young man...

The old man moves on. His horse STRUGGLES to pull the cart.

* * *

**111 EXT. THE ROADS -- NIGHTTIME**

Alucard and the horse SLOWLY make their way down an empty winding road--the exact same road from SCENE 103. It’s lined with DEAD TREES. The horse can’t keep its head up very high. Neither can Alucard.

He HUNCHES his back. The worst posture to have while riding a horse. Even the slightest bounce or stumble makes him WINCE IN DISCOMFORT. Walking might have been faster.

* * *

**112 EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHTTIME**

They wander into a dense forest. The road ENDS. There’s not even a clear path in sight. TOWERING TREES dwarf Alucard and the horse. MOONLIGHT guides them.

VOICE (O.S.)

(whispering)

Prince—

The horse comes to a STOP. Alucard’s eyes perk open. He turns his head around. They’re alone. Yet he hears the voice again LOUDER this time.

VOICE (O.S.)

(rasping)

Our prince--

Alucard looks down.

Something CRAWLS OUT from under the bushes. Followed by another, then another. They’re too FLESHY, too BLOODY, to be ghosts or spirits. Lesser night creatures with MELTED bodies. Some look like the malformed bat fetuses which fell from the sky the night Targoviste fell. Others are more HUMAN SHAPED. Their mouths DROOP OPEN.

NIGHT CREATURE #1

(rasping)

Come home--

NIGHT CREATURE #2

(groaning)

Our prince--come home--

Alucard INHALES SHARPLY. His face TWISTS IN DISGUST. He’s seen these things before. The creatures continue to moan.

OVERHEAD SHOT of more night creatures crawling on the ground. Dozens of them SURROUND Alucard and the horse.

NIGHT CREATURES

(in unison)

Blood demands blood--flesh consumes flesh--

Alucard KICKS the horse’s side but it won’t move. There is no escape. A few creatures REACH for the horse’s legs.

NIGHT CREATURE #3

Blood for blood--

NIGHT CREATURE #4

Flesh for flesh--

The horse lets out a DISTRESSED WHINNY. Alucard grabs his sword but the horse won’t stay calm. It THROWS HIM OFF. He FALLS with a loud GRUNT. But it’s not him the creatures want.

Alucard LIFTS HIS HEAD. We watch as the horse’s unfortunate fate plays out. The creatures DRAG IT TO THE GROUND. They TEAR at its flesh. Slowly. The horse doesn’t fight back.

NIGHT CREATURES

(in unison)

Blood--flesh--blood--flesh--

ALUCARD

(angrily)

NO!

Alucard SCRAMBLES ONTO HIS FEET. He RUNS and begins SLASHING HIS SWORD at the creatures. Every swing is more taxing than the last.

NIGHT CREATURES

(in unison)

Prince--our prince--

ALUCARD

(desperately shouting)

Leave me be!

The creatures begin to SLITHER back into the shadows. Alucard STOPS to take a breath. The sword is HEAVY in his hand. He’s too late. The horse is nothing but a pile of BLOODY FLESH, EXPOSED ORGANS, AND TORN LIMBS.

ALUCARD

(breathing heavily)

No--

NIGHT CREATURES (O.S.)

(whispering)

Come back--come home prince--come home--

Alucard LOOKS AHEAD at the dark forest before him. Guess it’s time to walk the rest of the way.

* * *

**113 EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHTTIME**

WIDE SHOT of Alucard emerging from out of the forest. His eyes are DOWNCAST as he walks into a CLEARING.

Alucard COVERS his nose and mouth, gagging. He raises his head. Eyes WIDEN IN SHOCK.

He’s come out of one forest only to enter into another one. A forest of BODIES. Fresh, bleeding. DISPLAYED ONTO STAKES in various positions. Some struggled, but most accepted their fates. The majority are men while others are women.

BEYOND THE STAKES sits the entrance to DRACULA’S CASTLE, larger, darker, and far more imposing than it’s ever been before. The castle itself BLOCKS OUT THE MOON.

Alucard briefly hesitates. He WALKS FORWARD down the rows of bodies. He can’t stare at them for too long.

CLOSE UP of Alucard stepping into PUDDLES OF BLOOD. There’s so much, the ground is SOFT. His boots SINK into the bloody mud.

WIDE SHOT of Alucard arriving at the front stairs. This feels very familiar. As though he’s retracing someone else’s steps. Someone who was very dear to him...

He doesn’t need to knock. The doors OPEN. Alucard enters before THE DOORS ABRUPTLY CLOSE. Welcome home.

* * *

**114 INT. MAIN CASTLE HALL...?**

Instead of stepping into a familiar grand hall, Alucard is SURROUNDED BY AN EMPTY VOID. FLOATING CANDELABRAS provide the only source of dim candlelight. Alucard CAUTIOUSLY walks through the darkness. He doesn’t get very far before STOPPING.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)

Did you enjoy your homecoming gift?

In front of Alucard sits MIRANDA in her usual chair. Nothing about her has changed either. Not her age nor her attire. She seems... comfortable. Content.

MIRANDA

I must say, I’m shocked you couldn’t smell me from out there. But it has been far too long, prince.

ALUCARD

(beat)

Do you still answer to the name “Miranda”?

MIRANDA

I’ve had so many names in the past. Miranda, Djuvara--but I’ve grown rather fond of this particular form.

ALUCARD

What are you doing here? Where is my father?

MIRANDA

You know I can’t answer that.

ALUCARD

Then why has the castle returned?

MIRANDA

You should be asking yourself that. After all the trouble you went through just to hide from my eyes. To hide from yourself.

ALUCARD

(deflecting)

You forced me to come.

MIRANDA

I never forced you to do anything. It was only you. You left that coffin and dragged that poor excuse of a living body onto these front steps by your own free will.

ALUCARD

(shouting)

No! This should not be happening! I never should have awoken.

MIRANDA

Yet it is. And yet you did. Because this castle and yourself are inexorably linked. Your blood runs through its walls. When one rises, so too must the other. Of course, things are never quite as one remembers them. But you are amongst family now. Welcome home blessed prince.

Alucard’s eyes NARROW.

ALUCARD

(pissed off)

I have no family here. This is not my home.

He POINTS HIS SWORD and LUNGES towards Miranda. She doesn’t react. Not even when she RAISES A HAND and STOPS THE SWORD before it can reach her face. Alucard is frozen in place--same as his sword.

Miranda keeps her hand raised but HOLDS NOTHING between her two fingers. She doesn’t need to.

MIRANDA

Careful, prince. 300 years is a long time to keep one’s strength dormant.

Alucard TWITCHES and GRUNTS but still can’t move.

MIRANDA

Perhaps you should sit down as well.

Miranda RAISES A SINGLE FINGER. In a split second, Alucard is violently THROWN INTO THE AIR. The sword CLATTERS against the floor.

He doesn’t get a chance to breathe before he falls back down. Before Alucard can land, he HOVERS INCHES OFF THE FLOOR IMMOBILE. One move and he falls right onto his face.

ALUCARD

(through clenched teeth)

You fucking hag--

MIRANDA

Watch your tongue. You will soon find that Death is the kindest being in this castle.

Alucard is TOSSED against the candelabras. Then AGAIN towards the opposite side. The LOOSE BLACK CLOAK falls off his shoulders as he slumps to the floor.

MIRANDA (O.S.)

Are we done?

Something invisible GRABS HIS HAIR and DRAGS HIM across the floor. Alucard’s LIMP BODY hovers in front of Miranda. Both arms and both arms are STRETCHED, as though unseen ropes are pulling them. Alucard is forced to LOOK UP.

MIRANDA

Are you ready to behave now?

ALUCARD

(beat)

\--Eat shit in hell.

(Trevor would be so proud.)

Alucard’s sword SHAKES then RISES UP into Miranda’s hands. Her fingers barely touch the blade.

MIRANDA

Such a shame, Alucard. With all the powers bestowed upon you by your father, you still insist on this plaything. Though now it’s hardly more than a relic--much like its owner. Bendable. Perhaps even breakable.

The sword HOVERS in midair. Alucard is forced to watch as Miranda CLENCHES HER HANDS and...

The blade LOUDLY CRACKS IN HALF.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s WIDE PAINED EYES. A second SICKENING CRACK is heard.

It’s not a scream which escapes Alucard’s OPEN MOUTH. Rather a CHOKED GASP IN AGONY. His back is BENT UNNATURALLY.

MIRANDA (O.S.)

You came here. You expected the castle to submit to you, but not you to it.

Alucard DROPS THROUGH THE FLOOR into a dark abyss. The BROKEN PIECES of his sword follow him downwards. Miranda WATCHES them fall.

MIRANDA

Now your corpse shall join many others in remaking its very foundations.

Alucard CONTINUES TO FALL surrounded by the empty void. Falling. Falling...

FADE TO BLACK

* * *

**113 INT. UNDERGROUND CAVERNS -- NIGHTTIME**

We PAN DOWN along a deep chasm. DIM MOONLIGHT shines from above as we continue downwards.

OVERHEAD SHOT of Alucard lying upon a stony wet ground. BEATEN and BROKEN. His SHATTERED SWORD is nearby.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s BATTERED FACE as he raises his head out of a shallow puddle.

He tries to MOVE, GROANING. He fails to stand up, STUMBLING right back into the water with a SPLASH. Alucard GRITS HIS TEETH in pain and frustration. Fine. If he can’t walk, then he’ll have to CRAWL.

Alucard PULLS HIMSELF along more rocky wet ground. A sudden NOISE in the darkness catches his attention. Water splashes in the distance. He hears an INHUMAN SNARL. It’s close now. Closer. Coming straight towards him...

A creature EMERGES FROM THE SHADOWS. Standing upright on two legs. Murky coloured scales for skin. Two IMPOSSIBLY LARGE EYES and a jaw full of sharp teeth. One ugly motherfucker.

The cave troll stands in Alucard’s way. It looks directly at him but does nothing. Could it be blind? Alucard tests that theory by crawling forward.

The sound of movement ALERTS THE TROLL. Alucard immediately stops just as it LUNGES for him. Landing on all fours, it listens. Both eyes are a MILKY WHITE.

Alucard remains PERFECTLY STILL, even when the troll CRAWLS ON TOP OF HIM, pushing his face further into a puddle of dirty water. He TREMBLES but doesn’t dare breathe.

It lets out a GUTTURAL CRY. Nothing here. The troll moves on, freeing Alucard. Now it’s time for him to move on as well. Only much, much more carefully than before.

Deeper through the caverns he slowly crawls. A couple more PATROLLING CAVE TROLLS come into view. Alucard manages to avoid them, STOPPING whenever he makes a sound. There’s so many of these assholes, surrounding him on all sides.

Alucard rests for a moment, BREATHING HEAVILY. Every inch of him hurts. Does he even know where he’s going? He raises his head and SQUINTS as a FAINT LIGHT shines onto his face.

Up ahead is the source of the strange light--a familiar TEAR IN THE WALL that wasn’t there before. Inside the tear are FLASHING COLOURS. Bright and very, very loud. This is the worst possible thing to happen right now.

The cave trolls TURN THEIR HEADS and RUN towards Alucard. Shit. Before he can panic, a distant voice coming from the tear calls to him.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)

(shouting)

Take my hand! Take it!

Alucard doesn’t have a choice. Despite his BROKEN BACK, he picks himself up and THROWS HIMSELF towards the flashing tear in the wall. The cave trolls are CLOSING IN.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)

(shouting)

Just take my hand!

A HAND EMERGES from the tear. Wrinkled but strong, wearing some rings on a few of their fingers.

Alucard REACHES. The cave trolls RUN.

CLOSE UP of Alucard GRABBING onto the hand...

He’s pulled INTO THE WALL before the trolls can reach him. The tear CLOSES, leaving the trolls in darkness and silence.

END OF EPISODE ONE


	2. wood carving partita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EPISODE TWO: Under the behest of his eccentric saviour, Alucard rests while his body heals. The walls of Dracula’s castle are breached by a lone traveler.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING for implied drowning
> 
> [READ ON CARRD](https://nocturnesymphonia.carrd.co/)

**201 INT. ALUCARD’S COFFIN**

ABOVE SHOT of Alucard lying inside his coffin. He sleeps, peacefully, arms crossed over his chest. The same as he’s been for the past 300 years. ****

A subtle NOISE disturbs the complete silence. It sounds like rocks scraping against each other. CLOSE UP of Alucard’s eye FLUTTERING OPEN.

ALUCARD’S POV: a slight crack appears along the inner roof of the coffin. The longer Alucard stares, the more it SPREADS. ****

BROKEN PEBBLES fall onto Alucard’s BEWILDERED face before his eyes GROW WIDER. ****

ALUCARD’S POV: something begins to SEEP THROUGH THE CRACK--a soft, fleshy substance that PULSES and BLEEDS like human organs and muscles. It SPREADS until the entire inside of the coffin is covered. ****

Alucard FRANTICALLY TURNS HIS HEAD in an effort to avoid the substance. DROPS OF BLOOD stain his cheeks and forehead. He doesn’t want to look, but can’t help it.

He shouldn’t have. He should have just closed his eyes. ****

ALUCARD’S POV: a FACE without eyes and a mouth without teeth EMERGES out of the layer of constantly moving flesh. It begins to INCH FORWARD. A series of disjointed voices GROAN at the same time.

VOICES

(rasping)

Prince--our prince--wake up prince--

The space between Alucard and the face GROWS SMALLER. Alucard can do nothing but lie still.

VOICES

(clearer, more in unison)

We desire your presence. Your blood. Your flesh. Come home. Come home prince. We long for your return.

CLOSE UP of the face’s grotesque mouth BRUSHING AGAINST ALUCARD’S TREMBLING LIPS.

VOICES

Where blood demands blood and flesh demands flesh--

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s eyes WATERING UP with terrified tears.

WE JUMP TO the same QUICK FLASHING IMAGES from scene 110. However, now the images are much clearer than before. 

We see the aftermath of a MASSACRE involving men, women, even children. Alucard VIOLENTLY PULLS AT HIS BLOODY HAIR, screaming... or is it laughing? A person WHO MIGHT BE TREVOR BELMONT carries Alucard into his coffin. Are these memories?

CUT BACK to the present. The layer of flesh and the face are GONE. Alucard lies back, his chest HEAVING. The voices have CHANGED. They sound less guttural, sadder, perhaps even desperate. It’s unclear whether Alucard can actually hear them or not.

VOICES

(growing fainter)

Help--help them--help us--help me--

* * *

**202 INT. BEDROOM**

CLOSE UP of Alucard forcing his eyes open. Sweat drips down his forehead as he breathes heavily. He looks FEVERISH. ****

ALUCARD’S POV: instead of staring up at the inside of his coffin, we see a sturdy ROOF. No flesh, no face, only wood.

ABOVE SHOT of Alucard lying atop a rickety, narrow, but comfortable bed. A single candle sits on a nearby table. There are BANDAGES wrapped around his torso along with an odd CONTRAPTION made from leather straps and wooden planks keeping his abdomen straight. ****

He RUBS HIS SWEAT-DRENCHED FACE, still reeling from the dream/memory of how he woke up. But how did he get here? Where exactly is _here?_ ****

SIDE SHOT of the bed. Alucard SITS UP and tries to get out. Not the easiest or most painless task. The contraption doesn’t help. He moves SLOWLY, wincing and groaning. ****

Finally, he STANDS... poorly. His long hair falls over his EXASPERATED face. Alucard HOBBLES out of the room and into...

A HALLWAY. Long and dimly lit. The further down he walks, the more CLUTTERED the hallway becomes. Various BOOKS, TORN PAGES WITH SCRIBBLED NOTES, and other miscellanea litter the floor. It’s difficult to walk without tripping over something. In short, a MESS. ****

Alucard STOPS. He hears the distant MUMBLE OF SOMEONE TALKING through the walls. At the end of the hallway is a door SLIGHTLY AJAR. The voice sounds clearer now, although the exact words are still incomprehensible. Alucard GENTLY PUSHES the door open with a slight CREAK.

* * *

**203 INT. STUDY ROOM**

Alucard enters into what looks like a hoarder’s space. One can barely breathe let alone move. There’s a desk that nearly bends under the weight of so many books, manuscripts, ink bottles, pens, and candles well past their prime. Shelves full of items both strange and unnatural--some old while others look ODDLY MODERN. ****

Last but not least, a couple shelves display sub weapons and items from other Castlevania games. (SOME EXAMPLES: bottles of holy water, Omamori charms, and... a cream pie?) ****

HUNCHED OVER THE DESK with his back turned to us is an OLD MAN wearing heavy robes and a slightly poofy black cap. His thick grey hair has grown almost down to his legs. He continues to MUTTER, unaware of Alucard’s presence.

OLD MAN

(to himself)

Gone... gone... off to the ether with that one... 

Alucard STARES at the man, steadily growing more suspicious.

OLD MAN (O.S.)

Mmm... no, that won’t do. These gateways are gone... gone, gone... never again to be--

Alucard REACHES for something to steady himself but ends up STUMBLING and KNOCKING OVER a mismatched statue of armour. The man SPINS AROUND, startled by the sudden noise. 

We see his face, his wide sunken eyes. His beard is just as long as his hair. Alucard doesn’t know this man but we do. A certain Count who claimed to be immortal with a penance for magic.

However, like Alucard and like Miranda, he seems different this time and yet not so different at all. Far more... eccentric. At the sight of Alucard, he TRIPS over himself while trying to STRAIGHTEN OUT his desk (which is beyond help).

SAINT GERMAIN

(rambling)

Ah! The prodigal son returns to the land of the living... if one could even call this place that. Welcome! Welcome. Relieved to see that my contraption does indeed work. Crude yes, but far better than cutting you open and shoving a metal clasp onto your spine, yes.

ALUCARD

(barely able to get one word out)

Where--

SAINT GERMAIN

Though it shocked me to see you so battered and bloody, slipping in and out of mental and physical oblivion. They do say that half vampires take all the strengths befitting their human sized leech of a parent but leave whatever weaknesses. 

Germain PACES back and forth then around the room--as much as he can with all the junk lying around.

SAINT GERMAIN

Now there can’t be any truth to that. None of us--mortal or immortal like you and I--take what we desire within our own bodies then leave the rest to wither and rot. Everything rots, everything dies eventually. Even if we ourselves cannot see it on the outside. We still feel it. On the inside.

ALUCARD

(already frustrated)

I don’t--

SAINT GERMAIN

(talking too fast)

The gateways have that effect, you know. Perhaps you don’t. But perhaps you do! It often slips my mind how the Corridor does not discriminate towards the experienced and the greenhorns--

ALUCARD

(shouting)

Enough!

Surprisingly, Germain listens. He STOPS, stunned by the outburst. Alucard can barely hold himself up.

ALUCARD

(beat)

Who are you?

Germain scratches his beard-covered chin. His gaze SHIFTS AROUND, unable to settle on Alucard. Tough question.

SAINT GERMAIN

(unsure)

Me? Who am I... my name... yes! Yes, I... I did have a name. Once. We all have names.

He CONTINUES TO PACE while counting on his fingertips.

SAINT GERMAIN

One or two... I had many. I also had a title and a home and accolades because of my name. But I seem to have misplaced them... or lost them... or forgotten. But they come back. Like the gateways, they all fade away then come back--

ALUCARD

(angrily)

Answer the question, old man.

Germain quickly FACES ALUCARD and AGGRESSIVELY walks towards him. 

SAINT GERMAIN

(also angry)

Let me think, damn you! Everything is so loud, always so bloody loud.

ALUCARD RETALIATES by grabbing the first thing he can find off the shelf behind him--A LETTER OPENER. He POINTS IT in Germain’s face who immediately BACKS AWAY.

ALUCARD

(aggressively)

You find this amusing? Is there some perverse glee in holding me captive like this?!

Germain RAISES his hands. His weary expression SOFTENS. He’s no threat and doesn’t mean any harm.

SAINT GERMAIN

I’m sorry... I’m sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice--

Alucard keeps the letter opener at the ready... unaware that it is in fact just a letter opener.

ALUCARD

(talking fast)

Who are you? Where is this place? How did you find me and why did you send me through the--

The amount of questions causes Alucard to suddenly JOLT AND WINCE. He DOUBLES OVER, holding his body in pain. Germain doesn’t seem overly concerned. More like CURIOUS.

SAINT GERMAIN

Oh dear. Perhaps your back needs a little more time. That’s enough for now. It’s back into bed for you.

Germain MOVES CLOSER about to help but Alucard BLINDLY WAVES the letter opener.

ALUCARD

(breathing heavily)

Don’t--don’t lay a fucking finger on me--

SAINT GERMAIN

I’m afraid I have to in order to help.

Germain GENTLY WRESTLES the letter opener out of Alucard’s hand before placing it back on the shelf.

SAINT GERMAIN

There we are. On your feet.

Alucard WEAKLY RESISTS while letting out a PAINED WHINE but is reluctantly able to STAND UP with an arm draped around Germain’s shoulders. Together, they SHUFFLE out of the room. 

The two men move INTO THE HALLWAY, their backs turned to us as they walk forward one tentative step at a time.

ALUCARD

(exasperated)

Just tell me what’s happening.

SAINT GERMAIN

I shall. That I can promise you. But first, sleep.

ALUCARD

I’ve had enough sleep. I don’t want it anymore.

SAINT GERMAIN

Once more cannot hurt.

* * *

**204 INT. BEDROOM**

Germain LAYS ALUCARD DOWN on the bed and adjusts a few of the leather straps across his chest.

SAINT GERMAIN

Some distilled valerian and St. John’s wort to calm your nerves.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a SMALL VIAL full of liquid. Alucard STARES at the vial with MILD DISGUST.

ALUCARD

You’re going to make me drink it.

SAINT GERMAIN

Only if you want to vomit or shit yourself. Or you can take one long inhale and have a peaceful night. Whichever you prefer. 

Oh jesus christ, fine. Alucard says nothing as Germain uncorks the vial and places the opening DIRECTLY UNDER ALUCARD’S NOSE. He breathes in. Doesn’t protest or complain. He’ll trust the old man with this small thing. He’s too tired to do otherwise.

SAINT GERMAIN

(softly)

That’s it. Breathe it all in. Now sleep.

Alucard’s head sinks into the pillow. His eyelids grow heavier before CLOSING.

ABOVE SHOT of Alucard lying in bed with Germain looking over him.

SAINT GERMAIN

(his voice growing fainter)

Sleep, son of Tepes. And pray the good dream finds you.

FADE TO BLACK

* * *

**205 EXT. DRACULA’S CASTLE -- NIGHTTIME**

It’s raining. Not a downpour or storm, but a gentle spring shower. As though the world and nature carry on despite the presence of the castle. 

CLOSE UP SHOTS of fat water droplets sliding off leaves. CUT TO blades of grass wet with rain and BLOOD.

We then SCALE DOWN one of the castle’s MASSIVE WALLS before dropping deep in the surrounding woods. A SILHOUETTE makes their way through the trees. It’s--

\--the HOODED TRAVELER from episode 1 scene 106. Their full identity still obscured. They stare up at the castle. Front door entry is out of the question so they WALK ALONG THE PERIMETER, searching for another way inside. They remain hidden, always hidden in the shadows.

The traveler CLIMBS UP A TREE to get a better vantage point. The sheer size of the castle wall dwarfs the forest trees. They crouch atop the highest possible branch and look. And look. Without revealing the traveler’s eyes, their head PERKS UP. 

CLOSE UP of their hand GRABBING A COIL OF ROPE AND HOOK attached to their belt. We catch a brief glimpse of other weapons hanging off their hip--a THIN SWORD in its sheath and TWO 18TH CENTURY PISTOLS.

The traveler reels back the grappling hook with a spin then THROWS IT into the air with an audible GRUNT. It barely reaches an OUTSTICKING ARCHITECTURAL SPIKE. They try again with MORE FORCE. Closer but still no success. Third time’s the charm. GRITTING THEIR TEETH, the traveler throws the hook--

\--WRAPPING IT AROUND THE SPIKE.

The traveler tugs on the rope to make sure it’s secure before tying the end to their belt. They JUMP off the branch and PLANT THEIR FEET firmly against the wall. Both hands on the rope, they begin to CLIMB.

The further up they go, the more it seems impossible. There are NO WINDOWS and the entire wall feels as though it was made from a single block of thick stone. There are a few cracks and chips but none large enough for sneaking through.

Except for one. The traveler STOPS, their hood and cloak WEIGHED DOWN by the rain. One hand LETS GO OF THE ROPE. They run their palm over A LARGE CRACK surrounded by SMALLER ONES.

CLOSE UP of the traveler reaching into their boot. They withdraw a SIMPLE DAGGER.

Using the blade, they CHIP AWAY at the crack until the stone CRUMBLES AWAY to reveal A HOLE LEADING INTO THE CASTLE. It’s dark on the other side.

The traveler slips the dagger back into their boot. After untying themselves, they swing and hoist themselves forward, SQUEEZING THEMSELVES THROUGH THE HOLE. They crawl inside before disappearing.

We hear something SQUISH like wet meat. Slowly, the hole in the castle wall CLOSES UP like an open wound healing itself. No cold hard stone, only PULSATING, RAW FLESH--almost as if the castle is a living thing.

* * *

**206 INT. EMPTY VOID**

It’s dark. As dark as when Alucard entered the castle in episode 1 scene 114. The floor is covered in a SHALLOW LAYER OF BLACK WATER.

WIDE SHOT of Alucard sitting with his arms around his bent knees. Naked. Head low, expression DISSOCIATIVE. Out of the silence, something talks to him; a voice which sounds like an AMALGAMATION OF DIFFERENT PEOPLE. They speak at the same time, barely in unison.

VOICE (V.O.)

Do you know where you are?

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s face. No change in expression.

ALUCARD

(quietly)

No.

VOICE (V.O.)

Do you know why you’re awake?

CLOSER SHOT of Alucard’s DULL, EXHAUSTED eye.

ALUCARD

(beat)

No.

VOICE (V.O.)

Liar. He has returned.

BACK OUT. Alucard remains seated and alone in this empty void.

ALUCARD

That’s not possible.

VOICE (V.O.)

Why is that?

ALUCARD

Because I did everything I could to make sure he was gone forever.

VOICE (V.O.)

No. You went away and left the work to them. It was never about him alone. You buried yourself, the castle; any evidence that Dracula and his spawn ever walked the earth. Now what will you do?

ALUCARD

(beat)

What I did before.

VOICE (V.O.)

Only to lock yourself away again because for you, time does not move forward in a straight line. It is a circle. An ouroboros consuming, eating itself to death.

ALUCARD

I do not want to talk about this.

VOICE (V.O.)

(indifferent)

Then listen. When you tried to live normally outside of your self imposed duty, you were mistreated and committed terrible deeds to rectify that hurt. Even then, you couldn’t bear to have such guilt fester within your conscience.

(beat)

Who are you really?

Alucard SLOWLY MOVES ONTO HIS KNEES and stares down at his reflection in the water. His long hair FALLS AROUND HIS FACE. Fingernails DIG into his arms.

ALUCARD

(beat)

Nothing.

VOICE (V.O.)

Nothing without your duty. Always duty. You never existed outside of it. If you could fully accept the one half of yourself, you might be freed from this burden.

Alucard’s face MOVES CLOSER towards the water.

ALUCARD

I don’t belong here.

VOICE (V.O.)

You do belong. You belong home. You always have.

Alucard closes his eyes and SUBMERGES his entire head underwater.

* * *

**207 INT. BEDROOM**

Alucard calmly opens his eyes. A BLANKET is pulled up over his mouth and nose. He looks far more comfortable than before.

Removing the blanket, Alucard SITS UP. The leather and wood brace is still around his torso, but his back seems straighter now. A lazy second passes before he TURNS HIS HEAD to the side.

CLOSE UP of a fresh pair of TROUSERS and a clean TUNIC folded atop the nightstand.

BACK ON ALUCARD. He stares down at the pile of clothing, his eyes full of REGRET for what happened.

* * *

**208 INT. HALLWAY**

Alucard saunters out of the bedroom wearing the simple shirt and pants. Still barefoot, though. The shirt itself is so OVERSIZED it feels more like a poncho. At least he can move with relative ease.

We follow Alucard as he LIMPS down the hall, past the study room, and into--

\--a small LIVING AREA complete with a FIREPLACE and RICKETY CHAIRS. Shadows fill the room while GERMAIN fiddles with something in the fire like a witch brewing over her cauldron. He HUMS to himself, rather cheerfully. Almost carefree.

Alucard is CAUTIOUS this time. He doesn’t want a repeat of what already happened between them. Rather than sneaking up, he CLEARS HIS THROAT.

Germain turns to him then stands up straight, holding a WOODEN SPOON in one hand and TWO BOWLS in the other. He seems GENTLY RELIEVED to see Alucard.

SAINT GERMAIN

I’ll wager you’d like something to eat.

Back to Alucard, still HESITANT.

ALUCARD

(beat)

I... please. Yes.

Germain stirs the cauldron then POURS STEAMING HOT SOUP into the bowls.

SAINT GERMAIN

Sit down, then. It may look like watery shit, but it’s warm and the taste of fennel always comes through. 

Alucard walks forward and SITS in one of the chairs. Germain hands him one of the bowls before seating himself. He RAISES HIS BOWL.

SAINT GERMAIN

Cheers. Or _bonne appetit_ , if you would prefer. 

While Germain almost drinks down his entire soup in a single gulp, Alucard STARES into his own portion. He was right--it does look like shit. Brown, murky water with a few sad shriveled herbs floating on the surface. Better than nothing, though.

Alucard takes a sip, WINCING SLIGHTLY because of the heat. He gives an APATHETIC SHRUG and waits for it to cool down.

ALUCARD

I should apologize for last night.

Germain POURS HIMSELF another bowl.

SAINT GERMAIN

(absentmindedly)

Last night? Last night... night...

(snapping back into focus)

Ah! You are referring to our previous informal introduction. No apologies needed. Buried the hatchet. Water under the bridge and all that. But you’ll have to excuse such frequent scatterings of my thoughts. Time is different here. It’s far easier to lose one’s sense of place.

ALUCARD

Exactly, where is _here?_

SAINT GERMAIN

Ah, yes. Mm. Suppose that should be the first order of business. What I am about to reveal might be disorienting or unsettling to someone of your current circumstances, but it is your right to know. So, sole heir and son of Tepes, let me ask you this... 

Germain takes a long sip of soup.

SAINT GERMAIN

Have you ever heard of the Infinite Corridor?

Back to Alucard, looking UNIMPRESSED. His answer is quick.

ALUCARD

(dryly)

Yes.

Germain SPUTTERS on another gulp of soup. He pulls himself together, embarrassed and a little bitter.

SAINT GERMAIN

(to himself)

Well, serves me right for still thinking I could impress anyone from that godforsaken spit of God’s country.

ALUCARD

You said it yourself. I was the son of history’s most brilliantly unstable polymath. It was exceedingly rare for certain occult discoveries to slip past him.

SAINT GERMAIN

Dracula was aware of the Corridor’s existence and its properties.

ALUCARD

(speaking slowly)

‘Aware’ being the extent of it. He never studied it in depth or discussed it with his family. Whenever I brought up the subject or presented a footnote which spoke of the Corridor in passing, he would dismiss it entirely. The same went for any other mention of cosmology. It was clear he knew far more than he revealed--or perhaps didn’t reveal in the end--and felt determined to covet it so secretly, even from his own kin.

(beat)

I always found it so odd. Architecture, science, mathematics, not a single pursuit of knowledge was taboo in that castle. All except for one.

SAINT GERMAIN

Was Dracula afraid of the Corridor?

ALUCARD

Not ‘afraid’, but cautious. Wary.

SAINT GERMAIN

‘Wary’ has never been a word I would use to describe Vlad Dracula Tepes.

ALUCARD

(defensively)

Did you know him?

SAINT GERMAIN

Not personally, no. From what I can recall, it wasn’t within my habits to rub elbows with enactors of genocide.

Alucard FURROWS HIS BROW in anger--

SAINT GERMAIN (O.S.)

Once beloved family or not, your father laid in the bed he made and had to be stopped for it.

\--before LOWERING HIS GAZE in silent acceptance. The old bastard is right.

SAINT GERMAIN

It makes me wonder how such a stain upon humanity fathered someone far greater than even the better halves of his whole.

(beat)

Perhaps it shall forever be history’s greatest miracle not transcribed in religious texts.

Alucard would beg to differ, but back to the topic at hand. He TAKES ANOTHER SMALL SIP before looking at Germain.

ALUCARD

You brought me here through the Corridor.

SAINT GERMAIN

A correct assumption.

ALUCARD

You were able to open a portal inside the castle itself.

SAINT GERMAIN

Closer to ‘under’ the castle, but smart lad.

ALUCARD

Which means you can do it again.

Germain flounders with his response. He was dreading having to answer this. He FUMBLES with the bowl in his hands.

SAINT GERMAIN

(clearing his throat)

Yes. Well. That. You see, lad, the difference between your father and myself is that I have studied the Corridor extensively. Far longer than I ever wanted to, in fact. While I’m here in this dank little hermit’s hovel, traversing its many gateways is the only thing I can do. Everything you see in this cottage came from my travels across time and space. Clothes, armoury, trinkets, even food. The worlds I’ve seen are innumerable. 

After taking another sip of soup, Alucard GRIMACES down at the bowl. Maybe it’s not actually better than nothing after all.

ALUCARD

If you can find better foods in these fantastical worlds, are you not also able to afford yourself the luxury of cooking better meals? Something more than just... this?

SAINT GERMAIN

Oh, I’m able. But I’ve eaten everything in the pantry already.

Alucard looks mildly annoyed. Ask stupid questions, receive stupid answers. He SETS THE BOWL DOWN.

ALUCARD

Why don’t you leave?

SAINT GERMAIN

Sorry?

ALUCARD

The Corridor. You’ve been granted access to an unimaginable amount of possibilities. You could start a new life in a new place, in a new reality, even in a new time. Why do you stay here?

CLOSE UP of a log in the fireplace CRUMBLING INTO ASHES. There’s a long weighted pause.

BACK ON GERMAIN. His expression turns serious. He takes both his bowl and Alucard’s before DUMPING the rest of their soup portions back into the cauldron.

SAINT GERMAIN

Come.

Germain STANDS and waits for Alucard.

SAINT GERMAIN

You wanted to know where we were. I’ll show you. Come with me.

Alucard nods. He STRUGGLES to stand up. Germain offers his hand in assistance but Alucard WAVES HIM OFF. He can do this himself. Which he does, standing up with a SLIGHT HUNCH.

Alucard follows Germain towards A DOOR. He opens it-- 

* * *

**209 EXT. COTTAGE -- NIGHTTIME**

\--Germain lets Alucard go first. Stepping outside onto some grass, Alucard’s gaze TURNS UPWARDS. His eyes WIDEN. His lower lip slightly DROPS IN AWE AND WONDER. Germain joins him by his side. They stare up at the same thing, though Germain’s expression is far more SOLEMN.

WIDE SHOT of a large grassy lawn surrounded by a dense forest. The skies are a KALEIDOSCOPIC SERIES OF WATERCOLOURS. The gentle colours are CONSTANTLY MOVING, flowing effortlessly, similar to an Aurora Borealis--or the Infinite Corridor itself. It’s strange, it’s surreal, it’s... beautiful.

BACK ON Alucard and Germain. The night lights REFLECT OFF THEIR FACES. 

ALUCARD

Is this--are we inside the Corridor?

SAINT GERMAIN

Not quite. The Corridor brought me here, but this place doesn’t seem to exist in any tangible reality or time. It’s not supposed to. It exists closest to the Corridor.

Germain turns back at THE COTTAGE.

SAINT GERMAIN (O.S.)

And shows what the heart desires most of all.

Alucard CURIOUSLY SIDE-EYES Germain. This suddenly got interesting. 

ALUCARD

What does the heart desire?

SAINT GERMAIN

Peace. Tranquility. Seclusion. But not now. It’s too soon. Not now. Until that time comes, this cottage serves as a sort of homestead whenever I traverse the Corridor. Something to come back to.

ALUCARD

Until what?

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

When I pulled you through that gateway, you looked as though someone had tied your ankles to a horse then slapped its rear end before sending it throughout the city streets of Prague. Not exactly befitting a son of Tepes. It’s also taken you an obscene amount of time to start healing yourself in regards to half vampire standards.

Alucard SCOWLS, avoiding eye contact.

SAINT GERMAIN (O.S.)

What happened out there?

ALUCARD

(immediately deflecting)

Is it possible to open the same gateway twice?

BACK ON GERMAIN. He STALLS FOR TIME by scratching his chin, as though in deep thought.

SAINT GERMAIN

Possible. Difficult, but possible.

ALUCARD

Can you find the one that will lead me back inside the castle?

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

I will try.

ALUCARD

I need to know if you can. I need to trust you.

SAINT GERMAIN

Good God, my boy, I mended your spinal cord when it was in pieces. What more trust do you need? I said it would be difficult, so you should expect it to be. These endeavours take a concerted amount of effort and focus. Which gives you ample time to recuperate until you’re good and properly healed.

ALUCARD

(reluctantly)

\--Fine. Do what you must.

Alucard watches OUT OF THE CORNER OF HIS EYE while Germain retreats back towards the cottage. There’s the lingering suspicion that despite his reassurance, this old coot doesn’t actually know what he’s doing.

CLOSE IN on Germain’s face as he leaves, hoping that Alucard can’t see the GROWING PANIC in his eyes.

* * *

**210 INT. STUDY ROOM**

The room is still in disarray. Even more so now that Germain FURIOUSLY SEARCHES through his massive collection of scrolls, books, and loose pieces of paper. There are so many, each in different conditions. One looks pristine, new, while another is falling apart. This library must span back centuries. 

Every time he picks up one notebook and combs through it, he immediately TOSSES IT onto the floor. Germain MUTTERS to himself.

SAINT GERMAIN

(growing frustrated)

It’s here. It’s here somewhere. I must have written it down. No! Not that! Stupid. Stupid old man always searching for something which does not exist.

Pause. Germain manages to CALM HIMSELF. He SHUFFLES back to his desk and begins RUMMAGING around in the drawer.

SAINT GERMAIN

But it has to. Every problem has its solution. Every puzzle its own--

CLOSE UP of Germain’s hand as he withdraws THE CORRIDOR STONE--only it doesn’t sparkle or glow like it used to. Its colours seem DULL and its bright flashing lights have FADED. 

GERMAIN STARES DOWN at the stone in his palm. There’s PANIC in his eyes and SWEAT on his forehead.

SAINT GERMAIN

(raising his voice)

Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this. Tell me, damn you! I know you can hear me! What does this mean!

Germain’s breathing turns HEAVY. He pauses. His eyes WIDE WITH REALIZATION.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

Why? Why him? Why must he leave before myself? I’ve paid my penance, I’ve done what you wanted of me. Rotting in this limbo while other worlds carry on without me. 

He PACES around the room, KNOCKING DOWN piles of books that get in his way. 

SAINT GERMAIN

He wants to leave then best of luck to him! Let him open the gate and lose himself in that Hell! Like father like son, that’s what they always say!

Germain STOPS pacing, his back facing us.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

Why must I help him?

CLOSE UP of Germain’s conflicted face. His expression SOFTENS. He doesn’t seem angry anymore. Just sad. A sad old man.

SAINT GERMAIN

Because he knew them. And they helped you. No one cared about your tricks or your plight except for them. He has to go back.

Germain turns back to THE STONE.

SAINT GERMAIN

If I... If I go with him... I could...

QUICK FLASHBACK to Germain REACHING for someone. His beard is short and his hair is neat. His eyes, younger and full of life. This isn’t Germain of the now. A SILHOUETTE standing UPSIDE DOWN against a BRIGHT LIGHT. A cacophony of TWISTING AND TURNING LIBRARY SHELVES surrounds them. They REACH for Germain’s hand-- 

\--before he’s suddenly PULLED BACK THROUGH THE PORTAL. No, he thinks. Not again. Not when I’m so close. Germain struggles and resists but it doesn’t matter. As the portal CLOSES, he finds himself LOST IN THE CORRIDOR.

Back to Germain in the present. HESITANT, he walks back towards the desk and PULLS SOMETHING ELSE out of the drawer.

CLOSE UP of his old notebook--the one he had with him in Lindenfield. The one he’s kept with him all this time. There are ink stains on the cover and the edges look torn and ragged. It’s seen better days.

PLACING THE STONE ON THE DESK, Germain begins flipping through the pages. 

FOCUS ON THE NOTEBOOK. At first, his handwriting and journal entries are neat. Written in PRISTINE calligraphy.

BACK ON GERMAIN. His expression growing DISTRAUGHT the further he flips through the notebook. For good reason.

With each page, the handwriting becomes more and more INELIGIBLE. Nothing more than chicken scratch. The only commonality found amongst these pages are the notes FIND THEM, ESCAPE, DO NOT FORGET, DO NOT FORGET THEM, GO BACK, and GET OUT.

Germain STOPS on the final page. Something falls onto the paper, soaking into the parchment--a TEARDROP, followed by MORE.

SAINT GERMAIN

I’ve tried. I tried to find you and stay. I was so close but... I always come back here.

(beat)

I can’t leave. It won’t let me... I can’t leave.

Germain DROPS the notebook before SITTING DOWN. He BURIES HIS FACE into his hands, WEEPING.

SAINT GERMAIN

(through tears)

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m so sorry...

CLOSE UP of the Corridor stone as it grows dimmer and dimmer with each passing second.

* * *

**211 EXT. COTTAGE -- NIGHTTIME**

MATCH CUT TO the much brighter outside sky. The colours continue to sway and merge together like an abstract painting come to life.

CUT TO Alucard sitting on the front porch of the cottage, arms crossed over his bent knees, staring up at the sky. He looks CONTEMPLATIVE. Entranced, unable to turn away. How long has he been here? Minutes? Hours? Is this what Germain meant when he said how time moves differently?

Finally, he TEARS HIS GAZE AWAY from the sky. He SQUINTS towards--

\--the forest. There’s a SHADOW AMONGST THE TREES. Human shaped. At least from a distance. No face, no limbs, nothing distinct or detailed apart from its silhouette.

Alucard can’t take his eyes off it. He WALKS FORWARD. Careful step by careful step.

BACK ON the mystery spectre. Still too far to tell who--or what--it really is. It FLOATS behind a tree.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s bare feet SINKING INTO THE SOFT GRASS as he walks closer.

The spectre EMERGES from behind the tree yet doesn’t move beyond the edge of the forest. Still, it’s drawn to Alucard. Especially since HE’S SO MUCH CLOSER NOW.

Alucard stares at it with APPREHENSION but also CURIOSITY. It doesn’t seem human, yet it’s shaped like one.

He RAISES HIS HAND. Maybe if he touched it... 

SAINT GERMAIN (O.S.)

(yelling)

What are you doing?!

Alucard immediately LOOKS OVER HIS SHOULDER. He sees GERMAIN on the front porch. The old man SCRAMBLES DOWN THE STEPS.

SAINT GERMAIN

Stop! Don’t go into the woods!

While Germain starts to run, Alucard TURNS HIS HEAD and sees--

\--the same spectre, only now it’s dark shape has become TRANSLUCENT. It’s entire lower body is gone, only a wisp remains. Floating in the space that must be its head are TWO ROWS OF MISMATCHED, CROOKED BLOODY TEETH. It opens its “mouth” and lets out a GUTTURAL MOAN. Two tendril-like arms sprout from either side of its body and REACH FOR ALUCARD.

BACK ON Alucard, visibly disturbed by the sight before him. He can’t move. The phantom tries to GRAB HIM until--

SAINT GERMAIN

NO! You cannot have this one!

Germain wraps both arms around Alucard and PULLS HIM BACK. The two men TUMBLE BACKWARDS into the grass. They stare into the forest, Germain’s grip still on Alucard.

MORE PHANTOMS with distorted faces and bodies begin to reveal themselves. They slither and float amongst the trees, FEEBLY GRASPING for something they can’t reach. Yet they still won’t leave the forest. 

Alucard and Germain STAND UP TOGETHER.

SAINT GERMAIN

Never go beyond the trees.

ALUCARD

(beat)

What are they?

SAINT GERMAIN

The many other fools who wandered into domains unwelcomed and uninvited. What will become of myself one day... or perhaps the two of us. 

Alucard LOOSENS HIMSELF out of Germain’s hold.

ALUCARD

No. We can keep them back and see if anything lies beyond.

SAINT GERMAIN

My boy, I’ve tried--

ALUCARD

You have a full armoury inside that cottage, if it’s the two of us instead of one then--

SAINT GERMAIN

(sadly)

You don’t listen, do you?

Germain goes silent. Alucard steps away from him, OFFENDED.

ALUCARD

Perhaps I shouldn’t.

He MARCHES back to the cottage, leaving Germain in a state of CONFUSION.

SAINT GERMAIN

Tepes? Prince Tepes?

He has no other choice but to FOLLOW.

* * *

**212 INT. STUDY ROOM**

Germain wanders into the room and finds Alucard searching his shelves, PULLING OUT random books and pages. He quickly skims through each one before DROPPING THEM. When a useless item gets in his way, he pushes it onto the floor. Alucard’s face is a grimace of MOUNTING FRUSTRATION.

Germain doesn’t seem particularly concerned about him ransacking his collection. More BEWILDERED than anything else.

SAINT GERMAIN

What on earth are you doing?

ALUCARD

(at the limits of his patience)

The thing you refuse to do.

Germain WALKS FURTHER INTO THE ROOM, looking even more confused.

SAINT GERMAIN

(offended)

What I refus--my boy, are you even hearing the slander coming out of your mouth right now?

Alucard CRUMPLES an entire handful of pages in his hands before THROWING IT at Germain. The time for civility is over.

ALUCARD

(yelling)

I can hear myself perfectly clear!

Tense silence passes between the two men. Alucard’s shoulders rise and fall with every LABOURED BREATH. Germain doesn’t know what to say or do.

ALUCARD

(trying to compose himself)

Can you or can you not reopen a gateway inside the castle? I’ve asked you this again and again and you won’t give me an answer. It’s a simple yes or no question.

SAINT GERMAIN

(defensive)

You think all of this is simple? If it were, I would be back in Paris where the wine and food doesn’t taste like someone pissed in it! I would be happy! But one rarely strikes gold twice, don’t you understand?

ALUCARD

(raising his voice)

Then just admit you don’t know. No more of this needless floundering. Tell me you don’t know how exactly the Corridor operates, everything is just by random chance, and that you lied to me!

In a burst of rage, Germain SLAMS HIS HANDS DOWN ON THE DESK. Bits of paper and pencils drop to the floor.

SAINT GERMAIN

(roaring)

I NEVER LIED TO YOU!

Alucard BACKS AWAY in shock. Germain has lost his temper before but not like this. He had almost grown accustomed to the eccentric yet soft spoken old scholar. But it’s what he said--”I never lied to you”--that catches Alucard’s attention the most. It sounds too familiar for his liking.

Germain CALMS HIMSELF with a few breaths, yet he still TREMBLES. Whether with anger or something else, it’s not clear.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

I told you it would be difficult to send you home and it has. That I did not lie about. But do you know what happens when you repeatedly toy with the Corridor? What happens when you wander past the trees?

Germain rolls up his baggy sleeve and reveals his right arm COVERED IN BLEMISHES, BRUISES, AND SCARS. Various shades of sickly purple, blue, and black.

SAINT GERMAIN

Finding you was by random chance because that is what always happens. That is how the Corridor exists. An endless maze created from chaos solely meant to deter travelers off their set course. But oh, what luck it was stumbling upon you. Finally, a chance to offer my assistance and do some good in my remaining wretched life. Just as a brief instance of good was once done for me.

Suddenly, Germain is drained of all energy. He COLLAPSES into the desk chair, inconsolable.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

But I am so tired. There is nothing left of me. Not my mind, my past life, or my memories. Nothing but a sad old man waiting for a death that may or may never come. Unable to leave no matter how often I try. Never to leave. If there’s no hope for myself and none for those that came before, then what hope is there for those who come after?

(beat)

You must think me selfish.

Alucard LOOKS DOWN. He can’t stare at Germain for too long--else he’ll be reminded of another sad old man who once begged for death.

ALUCARD  
(quietly)

Maybe we’re both selfish.

Germain doesn’t acknowledge him. Alucard takes a moment before AWKWARDLY JOINING HIS SIDE.

ALUCARD

(beat)

I’m sorry. I know apologies aren’t enough... and I have no excuses.

(beat)

Let me help you. I know only of the Corridor on the surface, but if you would let me look at your notes, I could make sense of them. I think I now have a much firmer grasp on my own mind.

Alucard GENTLY PLACES HIS HAND on Germain’s shoulder.

ALUCARD

I could find a way out for both of us. 

Although Germain still looks miserable, he RAISES HIS HEAD, giving Alucard A SAD SMILE.

CLOSE UP of Germain’s ringed wrinkled fingers wrapping around Alucard’s much younger hand.

PAN BACK. Germain remains seated and Alucard stands by his side, surrounded by the DIM GLOW OF CANDLELIGHT. Neither of them say a word. Neither of them let go.

FADE TO BLACK

* * *

**213 OVER BLACK**

We hear something shuffling around. The sort of noises one hears in a library where books are constantly being placed onto shelves then promptly taken off in the same breath.

A HOLE APPEARS OUT OF THE DARKNESS. Rectangular, shaped like the spine of a book. We see ALUCARD on the other side surrounded by CANDLELIGHT. His eyes shift around, LOOKING AT US then looking somewhere else. 

ANOTHER BOOK SHAPED HOLE APPEARS. Gaps of warm candlelight between a black screen.

* * *

**214 INT. STUDY ROOM**

Alucard stands in front of a shelf, his arms full of books. He picks out another, BRIEFLY READS THE COVER, then adds it to his ever-growing pile. His back seems much straighter now. 

He turns his body towards us. A few of the top buttons on his shirt are undone. We see from the slight glimpse of his bare chest THAT THE LEATHER STRAPS ARE GONE. Generally, aside from the tired circles under his eyes, he looks much healthier. He’s fully healed yet he’s in no rush, not like before. Alucard walks across the room--

* * *

**215 INT. LIVING AREA**

\--and sits down next to the well-stoked fireplace. He places the pile of books next to him before picking one to start reading, already FULLY CONCENTRATED. He flips a few pages.

CLOSE UP of the open book. The pages have browned and thinned over time. Alucard’s fingers thoughtfully trace over ARCHAIC SYMBOLS and notes written in ANCIENT SUMERIAN before turning the page.

FAR SHOT of Alucard in the background with his nose practically buried in the book. He’s done this sort of intensive research before. However, it’s always been with three other people. A moment passes before GERMAIN WALKS INTO THE FOREGROUND.

He watches Alucard with a melancholic expression before RAISING HIS HAND to look at something in his palm. The dim colours of the Corridor stone SHINE ONTO HIS FACE. 

Germain looks back at Alucard. There’s something he knows he must do but can’t bring himself to do it just yet. He CLOSES HIS HAND, hiding the stone in his fist.

SAINT GERMAIN

Alucard?

Alucard LOOKS UP from the book. It’s the first time he’s heard the old man say his name.

Germain joins him by the fire. He tries to smile but it still looks SAD. 

SAINT GERMAIN

I may have found a solution to your predicament.

(Notice how he says “your predicament”. Not “our predicament”.)

Alucard CLOSES THE BOOK and lowers it to the floor. Germain has his full attention as he opens his fist and REVEALS THE STONE. Alucard looks at it the same way he looked at the outside sky for the first time--awe and amazement.

SAINT GERMAIN

Many years ago, this stone stumbled its way into my possession. It reacts to the Corridor, growing stronger when the two are in close proximity. I’ve used it in my travels, opening various gateways and granting myself access to the Corridor itself.

CLOSE UP of the stone, still struggling to maintain whatever colour it has left.

SAINT GERMAIN (O.S.)

It’s how I found you. How I found many things... and nothing at all.

Alucard focuses on the stone. Even to him, something doesn’t seem right about it.

ALUCARD

It looks--

SAINT GERMAIN

Dull? Like it’s dying? I suppose it is. One more trip should finally mark the end of this stone’s life. Use it to find your way throughout the Corridor and open a portal that will lead you inside the castle.

ALUCARD

How do you use it?

SAINT GERMAIN

Follow its light. You’ll know better once you’re in the Corridor.

Not the soundest advice, but Alucard doesn’t care. This is the best lead he’s had since arriving at the cottage. He can go home--or what used to be his home. He can find answers. 

Smiling, Alucard PLACES A HAND ON GERMAIN’S SHOULDER. It almost looks as though he wants to hug the old man. He doesn’t, content instead to give his shoulder an awkward yet firm squeeze.

ALUCARD

Thank you, my friend.

Germain wants to share Alucard’s newfound optimism, but something holds him back. He can’t even look at the young man for reasons unknown (at least to Alucard and to us). Germain SNIFFS and WIPES HIS NOSE before dropping the stone into his pocket.

SAINT GERMAIN

(pulling himself together)

I, ah, I have something else for you.

He stands up and begins to exit the living area. Alucard follows as they walk down the HALLWAY.

ALUCARD

You’ve done so much for me already.

They STOP MOMENTARILY before entering the bedroom.

SAINT GERMAIN

(joking)

Well, if you’d rather wander around wearing the dregs of a beggar man’s closet, by all means do so. I expected far more from a son of Tepes.

* * *

**216 INT. BEDROOM**

SAINT GERMAIN

Though I think this might suit you better.

Germain stands to the side, letting Alucard enter the room first. His eyes PERK OPEN.

SLOW ZOOM IN on the bed where a NEATLY FOLDED PILE of black and gold clothing sits along with what looks to be a PISTOL.

BACK ON Alucard and Germain.

SAINT GERMAIN

I’ll leave you to get prepared.

Once Germain turns and disappears, Alucard walks further into the room. 

He PICKS UP THE PILE OF CLOTHING. Simply staring at it while feeling the fabric in his hands somehow makes him feel just the slightest bit like his old self--if his “old self” still exists.

* * *

**217 INT. HALLWAY**

FULL BODY SHOT of Germain standing at the very end of the hallway. He’s INTENSELY FOCUSED on the wall in front of him. Discarded pages filled with notes lay by his feet.

CLOSE UP of the wall. SCRATCHED INTO THE WOOD are more occult symbols along with scattered ticks tallying the days in which Germain has spent in this cottage--there are too many to count. Carved in the middle of the wall is an OVAL SHAPED GROOVE while a CRUDELY INK PAINTED SYMBOL surrounds it. 

(NOTE: the symbol is a combination of three primary dimension circles: TIME, SPACE, AND PERPETUITY.)

Germain’s focus is interrupted as he turns and sees ALUCARD EXITING THE BEDROOM wearing his new attire, sleek gloves and boots included. It’s similar to his old black and gold coat except not as long. It’s also buttoned up and comes with a white cravat. Despite barely changing (appearance wise) in over 300 years, he seems... older. More mature. More world weary.

In one gloved hand, Alucard HOLDS A THIN SWORD. This catches Germain’s attention.

SAINT GERMAIN

You’re not taking the weapon I offered?

Alucard SHEATHS THE SWORD by his hip.

ALUCARD

I found it underneath the bed. This feels better for me.

Germain looks surprised (and a little skeptical about Alucard’s choice of weaponry) but says nothing.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

Let’s get started then.

The two men stand in front of the wall. Germain takes the Corridor stone and PLACES IT INSIDE THE CARVED OUT GROOVE. He REMOVES IT shortly afterwards. The symbol LIGHTS UP curve by curve until the entire thing is glowing. 

Suddenly, the wall BREAKS RIGHT DOWN THE CENTRE. The newly formed tear starts to GROW AND EXPAND while FLASHING COLOURS begin to seep in. The gateway into the Corridor itself has been opened. 

Germain takes Alucard’s hand and PLACES THE STONE IN HIS PALM.

SAINT GERMAIN

This is yours.

Alucard takes the stone but not before giving Germain a confused look in exchange.

ALUCARD

We’re going together.

SAINT GERMAIN

I’m afraid not, my boy.

ALUCARD

(beat)

(trying to make sense of this)

Wait, but--we can both enter the Corridor, we did it before. We just have to stay together--

SAINT GERMAIN

It wouldn’t matter. The stone is almost at its end and so is my time in the Corridor. Whenever I try to leave, it always brings me back here. I can’t risk ruining your chances at escape by coming along.

Alucard stares at him in DISBELIEF. His long colourless hair blows around his face while the gateway OPENS WIDER.

ALUCARD

(beat)

No... no, that’s not fair. You’ll be trapped here--

SAINT GERMAIN

(sadly yet with acceptance)

Oh, I don’t think so. Despite everything, the Corridor won’t be so cruel as to keep me alive for much longer. 

Alucard’s expression grows MORE DESPERATE. Germain just SMILES.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

It’s alright, lad. But we’re wasting time. Go before the portal closes.

ALUCARD

I can come back for you. I’ll find a way--

SAINT GERMAIN

No, absolutely not. I forbid it. I won’t lose another to the Corridor.

Germain grabs Alucard’s shoulders with TEARS IN HIS EYES.

SAINT GERMAIN

Go now. Go and prove to others that you are not your father’s son.

ALUCARD

(beat)

I--

No more time for last words or goodbyes. With a single shove, Germain PUSHES ALUCARD THROUGH THE GATEWAY. Time seems to SLOW DOWN in these next few seconds. Alucard tries to hold on, tries to reach for the old man, but FALLS INTO THE CORRIDOR. The tear begins to close... 

ALUCARD

(shouting)

WAIT!

He SCRAMBLES TOWARDS THE PORTAL. Germain watches from the other side, still smiling. Alucard is INCHES AWAY until--

\--the portal closes. He STARES at where it used to be, unable to accept Germain’s fate. Alucard is left alone with nothing but the bright flashing colours of the Corridor.

CLOSE UP of Alucard’s fist holding the stone.

* * *

**218 INT. HALLWAY**

It’s done. After the crack in the wall disappears, Germain turns and slowly walks down the hallway--as though walking to his own execution.

* * *

**219 EXT. COTTAGE -- NIGHTTIME**

He sits on the front porch. Elbows on knees, turning his gaze towards the sky. We can tell just from what’s reflected off his face that the LIGHTS ARE ALREADY DYING OUT.

SAINT GERMAIN

It’s getting darker.

Germain looks across the field--

\--where the spectres remain floating amongst the trees. The forest grows darker and darker. The spectres continue to wait. MORE BEGIN TO APPEAR.

BACK ON GERMAIN. Shadows begin to ENGULF the cottage behind him. As all colour begins to fade into blackness, he starts looking more ANXIOUS.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

It’s getting colder.

BACK ON the forest spectres. Their groans sound much louder, maybe even a bit EXCITED. A few begin to CRAWL OUT towards Germain--

\--who stays seated on the porch, despite the darkness surrounding him more and more.

CLOSE UP of Germain resting his forehead against his clasped hands as if in prayer. He CLOSES HIS EYES, sweat dripping down his face. He can’t look, afraid of what the dark emptiness will bring. He shuts his eyes TIGHTER. The spectres sound like they’re getting CLOSER--

LITTLE GIRL (O.S.)

Papa?

Germain’s eyes SNAP OPEN. He looks ahead into the void and sees--

\--a little girl. Surrounded by nothing. Long black hair. Her skin is dark brown and she wears a simple mid 18th century child’s dress. She doesn’t look much older than six-years-old. She carries a heavy LANTERN, the only source of light in the darkness.

BACK ON GERMAIN. He GASPS in shock. Tears pour from his weary eyes. Tears of absolute joy. He STAMMERS. He’s waited so long for this moment and now he doesn’t know what to say.

The little girl RAISES THE LANTERN but keeps her distance.

LITTLE GIRL

Papa? Did you find our cottage?

WIDE SHOT of Germain and the little girl, still apart from one another. Enveloped in the empty void.

SAINT GERMAIN

(beat)

I did, my darling. I found our cottage.

CUT TO BLACK

  
  


END OF EPISODE TWO 


End file.
